Will he see this?
by jaw1024
Summary: A short story set at Heierlark Airbase - an unusual package with no address arrives in the mail room. On site administrative staff member Christina Dallam sets out to investigate the identity of the addressee. She ends up discovering much more.
1. Chapter 1: A Mysterious Package

I was rudely awoken from my daydream by several loud noises.

A thud of today's mail being dropped on my desk, the cheers of some of the pilots, and the roar of fighter jets outside.

My name is Christina Dallam and I'm part of the administrative staff at Heierlark Airbase, near the border with South Belka. I do the oh-so-exciting behind the scenes work that helps the airbase function. Every day the mail gets dropped on my desk and I get the honour of sorting it to each squadron's pigeon hole. The loud pilots in the next room are from the members Wolverine Squadron who are stationed here, bragging to other squadrons about the new F-15s that'd been received by the base. Once the jets are painted in their grey-brown colour scheme they'd be ready to use. The loud roar of fighter jets was from the 108th Tactical Fighter Squadron of the 5th Air Wing.

They consisted of four light fighters, F-5E Tiger IIs. The four were flown by exceptional pilots, each due to become instructors of different groups within the squadron. They'd be stationed all over Osea.

I rolled my chair over to the office window to catch a glimpse of the four. Number One of the squadron flew out in front, Major Bill Flannigan, call sign: Anaconda. He was an instructor for the instructors, teaching them to teach. Numbers two and three flew next to each other, close behind Anaconda, and number four flew behind, completing the diamond formation. Number four was Lieutenant Gerry Bolton, known in the air as 8-Ball. Number two was Captain Jack Bartlett, and number three-

I almost fell off my chair as it was pulled back towards my desk. I was spun around to look right into the eyes of our team leader, a large woman from the capital called Veronica.

"Miss Dallam!" she boomed, "there are over fifty items of unsorted mail on your desk. You may ogle your flyboy once all the mail is sorted", Veronica loomed over me as she spoke; she got huge satisfaction from belittling others. It worked. I couldn't look her in the eye when she did that, although she was right about one thing.

"Yes, Veronica. Also I got back to those people at Sand Island; an instructor will be coming over to evaluate the 108th's performance on Thursday…" But she was half way out the door by the time I'd even mentioned it. I sighed and spun in my chair back to my desk.

My desk was covered in mail. Envelopes of all sizes addressed to various squadrons members, the odd postcard from family members of pilots… and in the middle of it all was one package about the size of an A5 notebook, perhaps a little smaller but thicker. There was no address on the package. I focussed on the other envelopes.

Before long I'd organised all the envelopes and packages into squadrons, ordering them alphabetically by name within each squadrons. I reached for a pen and crossed off today on the calendar. Tomorrow was my 30th birthday, the big three-oh. Number three of the 108th had promised to celebrate it with me…

The clock struck 7pm and the office doors flew open. In marched the 108th. I managed to slip the last set of envelopes into the 56th squadron's pigeon hole before I was swept off my feet, literally.

After one desperately out of tune rendition of "For he's a jolly good fellow", amended so that 'he' became 'she', I got to return to the ground. Captain Bartlett spoke first.

"Yo kid, Happy Birthday!" he exclaimed, patting me on the back.

'Kid' had been his nickname for me ever since I started 6 months ago. I was only 10 years younger than him, "I'm not a kid anymore, _Jack_, I'm almost 30".

The Captain hated being addressed by his first name unless it was an emergency, unless it was his closest friends. I felt a familiar arm reach across my back as its hand came to rest on my shoulder.

"Yeah, _Jack_, be nice to my birthday girl" a man laughed.

I turned my head to my left to see number three of the 108th squadron; Captain Alfred "Wrestler" Armstrong, my Alfred. He was three years my superior, younger than Bartlett, but he'd earned the position of Captain a long time ago, having joined the OAF - Osean Air Force - in 1993. He was tall with died jet black hair, handsome, and he was mine.

I put my arm around Alfred and stuck out my tongue at Captain Bartlett. He grinned back.

"Bartlett, Bolton, let's leave Alf and his girl to celebrate her birthday", Major Flannigan spoke. He'd been silent up until now, except for providing the bass line with his deep baritone voice during my birthday song. Bolton groaned and Bartlett had to drag him away.

As they walked out the office door and into the adjacent corridor, Alfred called to them, "Don't worry, I'll join you guys later. And cheer up Bolton, it's chicken nugget Tuesday, remember?"

We laughed as halfway down the corridor we could hear Captain Bartlett roar with excitement, "Yes! I freakin' love nuggets!"

Bartlett's woops of delight faded as they walked away. Alfred slowly turned back to me, "yo Christina, you still worki-" He was cut off as I kissed him.

He kissed me back for a bit before stopping to say, "Tina, someone might see us!"

"Oh relax, everyone knows". We'd been seeing each other since my 6th week at Heierlark airbase but there was still debate to what classed as official. Alf was the one who worried about it. We'd been seeing each other for almost 5 months. He kissed me again.

The clock struck 7:15pm. Somewhere a door opened and we stopped, looking around for the source of the noise. It was somewhere in the corridor a few doors down. False alarm. We laughed.

"Oh, hey, Alf, this strange item appeared on my desk today, I don't suppose you know what it's about?" I reached for the thick brown paper package and handed it to him.

Alf held up the brown package. I glimpsed an upside down line of writing on the other side before he rotated it in his hands to read it himself. He raised an eyebrow and read it.

_FOR HIS EYES ONLY_


	2. Chapter 2: The Man I Seek

"'_For his eyes only'_? What the hell does that mean?" Alf asked with confusion.

"Beats me", I responded, "I hadn't even seen the writing. Helpful 'address', huh". Before I could say another word, Alf rotated it sideways to open it but a large black box quickly fell out.

With ninja like reactions Alf swooped down and caught it before it could shatter against the ground. He handed it to me.

"Looks like it's already been opened", he said. I took the black object from him. It was a VHS video cassette. I looked back up at Alf, "We're not allowed to just read someone else's mail"

"There's no rule against watching someone's mail, is there?" Alf smiled, "there's only one way to find out who it's for". I placed the cassette before Alf continued, "I'll catch you later, I'm meeting the boys for dinner. I'll be back before midnight, ok?" I smiled at him before kissing him goodbye.

"I'll see you later", I whispered as he walked out the door and into the corridor. Then I turned back to the video. There was no label on it.

I glanced around the office. For some reason we still had a bulky 17" cathode ray TV set with a slot for a video. Apprehensively, I pushed the video into the slot and turned on the TV.

The TV screen turned blue and the white letters 'VCR' appeared in block text in the top right corner of the screen. I picked up the TV remote, breathed in, and pressed the play button.

The screen turned black. A single line of white text appeared.

'25 NOV., 2005 NEAR A DISPUTED BORDER'

The screen remained black and a man's voice spoke.

"Oh, him? Yeah, I know him"

As the voice spoke the man came into focus. He was sat in a dilapidated room, holding an assault rifle. The camera only showed up to his nose; his eyes were off screen. I had a strong feeling that I really shouldn't be watching this. The man continued.

"It's going to take a while", where he was there was some light gunfire in the distance, "it happened years ago". There was more light gunfire echoing off surrounding buildings in the video.

"Did you know there are three kinds of aces?"He began counting on his fingers, "those who seek strength, those who live for pride, and those who can read the tide of battle. Those are the three. And him… he was a true ace".

Now another voice in the video spoke, "He was a fighter pilot they called 'Solo Wing Pixy'. He was a colleague of the man I seek. Ten years ago, there was a war that engulfed the world: The Belkan War. And in that war was a pilot who trailed across the sky and disappeared from history. He was a lone mercenary who inspired both fear and admiration. He is the man I seek".

'A fighter pilot?', I thought, 'but he's a ground soldier'. I walked over to a desk and tore a sheet of paper from a notepad across the office before returning and perching on the edge of my seat.

I soon recognised the voice of the narrator; it was OBC's reporter Brett Thompson. The man called 'Solo Wing Pixy' described his first mission with his 'colleague', two members of the 'Galm' team, flying for the Ustio Air Force. Brett Thompson proceeded to explain how the Belkan War was shrouded in mystery. He wasn't wrong; history books and documentaries nowadays contained enough information for school lessons or to fill an hour of TV respectively, but there were various rumours about its abrupt end. Intrigued, I continued to watch.

Before long I had written an entire page of notes about the Belkan War, the progress of 'Solo Wing Pixy' and his colleague, a pilot who was apparently known as 'Cipher'. This video seemed to be a strange documentary about Cipher. I remember reading about the liberation of the annexed highway in Ustio and a large scale battle at the Futuro Canal which took place shortly afterwards, two events in which the Galm team signficantly helped, but I learned in this video that both Cipher and Solo Wing Pixy were scrambled into a much more dangerous mission shortly before heading to Futuro.

April 20, 1995…


	3. Chapter 3: Choker One

April 20, 1995…

The last MiG-21 Fishbed exploded when the missile impacted. Through the fireball flew a silver F-15C with a red wing. The pilot looked around the sky for his flight lead, and upon finding him, flew towards him.

The pilot was Solo Wing Pixy. His Eagle came to a relative halt next to his flight lead. He looked over and spoke, "Cipher, we'll fly into the Round Table, proceed with caution". His flight lead, Cipher, did not respond but his craft accelerated, heading towards the mountainous ridge. A familiar voice spoke.

"Warning! Radar shows additional craft approaching area B7R at high speed!" The helpful advice came from a lone E767 flying at 30,000ft over one hundred miles away. It was the Ustio Air Force AWACS 'Ghost Eye'.

Pixy nodded and spoke to Cipher again, "Galm 2 to Galm 1, enemy reinforcements, probably the main force". Again, Cipher said nothing. The flight lead just stared forwards over the barren desert wastelands, the mountain range now behind them.

Fifteen miles to the North East, four jets screamed low over the sandy desert plane. Voices were heard over the radio.

"Rosa One to Rosa Three, just how many aircraft did Command say there were?!" At the helm of Rosa one was Marion von Anfang, cocky female ace of the Belkan Air Force.

"Er… Just two"

"Just what I thought. You two are free to sit this one out!" The lead plane began to climb and the three extra planes climbed in perfect formation.

"Nah, let's just go easy on them"

Rosa one chuckled, "Roger that, let's have some fun. All Rosa planes, you know the drill, switch to guns first!". With that the four planes simultaneously pointed their noses into the sky.

Circling over the mountain range the Galm team were taking commands from Ghost Eye, "Galm team, we can_not_ authorise a retreat, intercept them!"

"I figured you'd say that. This is gonna cost you extra", Pixy smiled. He looked down at his radar to see where the bandits were.

"Cipher, bandits at bearing 060", Pixy stated. The two planes turned to face their attackers- and saw nothing. Pixy didn't understand, there were four distinct red chevrons on the radar. Up ahead there were no planes in sight.

"Switch!"

For a split second there was a buzzing and "Caution" appeared before both Pixy and Cipher's HUDs turned red.

Then it clicked.

Pixy exclaimed, "Cipher, break! They're coming in from the sun!" Cipher's eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of the four planes. Less than two miles away the four planes became visible, and four thin lines of smoke sped towards them.

The two mercenaries broke formation and peeled away from each other, barely avoiding the missiles. In turn, the four missiles shot off in a star burst formation, but the missile tone was still sounding.

"Cipher, these planes are equipped with Quick Manoeuvre Air-to-Air Missiles", Pixy explained whilst checking where the missiles were, "they'll keep chasing you until they're out of fuel, so don't stop evading!"

Over ten seconds later the missile alert tone ceased. Pixy and Cipher stopped their evasive manoeuvres and looked for the enemy fighters, but they'd gone. Cipher checked his radar and sure enough the enemy fighters had disappeared into the sun. Cipher and Pixy pursued.

"Rosa One to Rosa planes, take time to aim", the four fighter planes turned around to face the Galm team, coming in from the sun again. As they passed their missiles missed again before looping around, but this time Pixy got a look at the attackers.

"Cipher, they're flying Fulcrums. Their special weapons can almost turn on a point".

Cipher paused to groan and then he turned to chase one of the MiG-29s before it could retreat to the safety of the glaring rising sun. The plane was painted light pink with a dark pink nose and a white spiralling pattern which spread all over the wings and fuselage. Cipher could barely see the plane itself in the dawn sunlight. Only its outline and the green square on his heads up display were fully visible. He launched a pair of missiles, and they both met their target. There was a scream on the radio.

"Gah! This is Rosa four, unable to maintain altitude, bailing out!"

Rosa Lead sighed, "Understood, Franz. We'll see you back at base. You never liked flying that pink plane anyway!" The lead pilot then addressed her remaining comrades, "all planes, it's time to get serious-"

She was cut off by an explosion. Another plane had just been hit.

"Rosa Two, come in! Inge, respond!" There was no answer.

Cipher flew between the disintegrating wreckage of the second plane. Pink shards of metal scattered across the skies. Pixy applauded Cipher's flying, "Cipher, there's two left. One for you, one for me". Cipher nodded and turned to face the two remaining Rosa craft, being careful not to look into the sun

Missile alert!

A pair of smoke trails shot passed Cipher and looped high into the sky to pursue him. As soon as the missiles dropped out of the sky, another pair were launched. The missile alert tone didn't stop.

Marion shouted, "Rosa Three, ignore the red Eagle. Let's go for their lead plane!"

"Roger that, ma'am!" Rosa Three responded…

… Just as a pair of missiles slammed into Rosa One.

"Marion- Rosa One, respond! Oh bloody hell!" Rosa Three peered over his shoulder and saw a parachute.

"Good kill, Cipher. Apparently that was their captain"

Rosa Three heard Pixy's remark over the radio. '_You're bloody right it was- is'_, he thought. He grimaced as he banked to face the Galm team, or rather a missile launched by Galm two. It was the last thing he ever saw.

2007, Heierlark Airbase

I watched with astonishment as 'Solo Wing Pixy' coolly recounted the events. A pair of mercenaries, one a seemingly inexperienced rookie, had both been responsible for downing a prominent Belkan Air Force squadron. The man spoke as if it were a normal occurrence, a run of the mill day.

I glanced over my notes. I'd completely forgotten what I was meant to be researching. Instead I'd collaborated: a path of the Galm team's progress across the Belka and her Empire in its early '90s shape – or as it appeared on my notepad, a triangle – detailed notes of the individual Belkan Aces that the Galm Team fought, including the Rosa squadron, and a doodle of an F-15. I'd forced myself to stop looking for a red pen ten minutes ago.


	4. Chapter 4: My Notes So Far

I reached over to the desk for the TV remote. I beamed down at the F-15 sketch, now complete with a red wing, and pressed play.

My sketch map of Belka and the Osean Continent showed progress from the Ustio mountain ranges, Valais Airbase, briefly up to the "Round Table" as they called it, back progressing North through Ustio. I remember myself the news on OBC, the headlines about Directus. It was a beautiful city and seeing its liberation on television was amazing, the unified cheers of celebration from its citizens were a diapason which motivated the rest of the nation at the time.

Brett Thompson and Pixy discussed some more missions after the liberation of Directus. The first missions beyond the liberated Ustio, into Belka itself, were not fully been covered in the media. So called nuclear inspections of Belkan strongholds, the monstrosity at Tauberg… Pixy depicted it so well that I added it to the collection of doodles. The collection now consisted of a red F-15C, an aerial view of Directus at sunset, a tremendous – if I didn't say so myself – view of the 'Sword of Tauberg', and a new prominent character. Flying alongside the red Eagle was a grey F-16 Falcon. On the tail was a white heart. I liked the new plane.

After destroying the Sword of Tauberg, the Galm team were sent to the Round Table again, and Solo Wing Pixy described how Cipher came back with a new nickname...


	5. Chapter 5: Knights Of Old

The Demon Lord. Demon Lord of the Round Table. I'd heard pilots all around the base compare themselves to being demons in the sky. I never imagined that it was a real thing. I was watching a video about a true Demon Lord. And Bartlett's stories of the war 12 years ago… Could he have flown with this man? Was this video cassette for him?

Engrossed, I turned my attention back to the video and my notes. The red-winged F-15 flew alongside the F-16 which had a heart on its rudder. I realised I hadn't noted which craft the "Demon Lord" flew. Both planes were in formation with thin air. Five seconds later they flew in formation with a paper aeroplane. My attention was brought back to the video as OBC's Mr Thompson spoke again. He explained that he'd managed to track down veterans of the war and had actually met some of them.

There was a guitar chord.

"Rosa Team commander, former member of the Belkan Air Force 4th Air Division, 20th Tactical Fighter Squadron: Marion von Anfang", Mr Thompson read. The screen showed the Rosa team's emblem, the outline of a bird in front of a rising sun. The Spanish guitar music in the background continued, as did Mr Thompson, "She was a leading force for females in the Belkan Military, until she met Him. Today she makes a living helping out at the _Klinikum Hoffnung _-Hoffnung hospital".

The video cut from the Rosa team credentials to a nurse in a grey hospital room. She was sat on an empty hospital bed near an open window. Her blonde hair wasn't tied up but it didn't reach her blue uniform. She sat with her arms folded, gazing out of the window.

"We underestimated him. Simple as that", Marion shrugged. She turned to face Mr Thompson who was outside of the camera shot, "Just two planes that had somehow slipped right past the prestigious defence line of the Round Table- B7R…", she smiled, "I had half a mind to send the rest of my team home, take them on myself".

She looked out of the window again and the smile disappeared, "My family have always defended this great nation- we go way back. Any history book will show my great-grandfather flying a Fokker Triplane. He was one of the first Belkan aces. He too flew alongside a red fighter. Before long the entire squadron flew in red, and ever since then our ace squadrons have referred to themselves by colours".

Marion paused, "Naturally, as the one of the first female flight leads, something of which I'm very proud, I figured pink was the way to signify that". She smiled again, "I remember most of the male pilots in my squadron couldn't stand flying a pink plane! But it did make us almost invisible at dawn. And that fateful morning…"

She sighed and continued "We usually scrambled for 6am in the early months of spring, just as the sun was rising. It should've gone down perfectly. But this one pilot…"

Now Marion looked disappointed. I wasn't sure exactly with whom she was disappointed, "His flight patterns were so erratic, as if he'd never studied anything on flight patterns. He was completely unpredictable, but that also meant he had no idea when he was making text book manoeuvres and mistakes".

Marion frowned out the window, "not that it mattered".

The video then showed a 2nd interview, this time of a man who faced Him shortly after the Ustio capital, Directus, was liberated. Similarly to Marion from the Rosa team, this man had been grounded ever since meeting the 'Demon Lord'. I recalled 'Solo Wing Pixy' narrating the liberation of Directus. Until today I had no idea that a pair of fighters had showed up just after the allied forces had taken control. It made no sense, but then, the Belkan pilot conveyed the same opinion. I noticed that for a proud Belkan pilot, it was unusual that he'd found home in the city where he'd lost his last fight.

The screen turned black and rows of white letters appeared again. They read:

INTERVIEW #03  
THE PROTECTOR

DINSMARK, BELKA  
12 NOV., 2005

"The Protector" was written in blue letters.

The Spanish guitar strummed again, and Brett Thompson spoke.

"Former number five of the 'Kingfishers', also known as the Blau Team, and officially called the Belkan Air Force 2nd Air Division, 50th Tactical Attack Squadron: Andreas Brandner. His interest in aeronautics and his first-hand experience of the Belkan War earned him the position of curator at the _Dinsmarker Luft- und Raumfahrtmuseum - _Dinsmark Aerospace Museum. He too makes use of his position to track information about the Demon Lord."

The video faded to Andreas Brandner. He was stood in the museum, surrounded by various artefacts: an old 1930s airliner, a model replica of the Usean X-02 fighter jet, the rocket thruster of a large ballistic missile to name but a few. The man himself didn't look like a pilot. He was balding and a bit overweight. The previous interviewee looked every bit a military man. You'd never guess with Andreas Brandner.

"The Round Table was a symbol of national pride for Belka. It was the pinnacle of aerial combat arenas and it was _ours_". He emphasised the ownership, or rather former ownership, of the Round Table, "no one else had anything like it".

"National pride fuelled a lot of Belkans, heck it still does". Andreas stared around the museum, "do you see many Osean planes in this museum?" His gaze locked on a plane off screen, "see this one over there?" He walked over to the camera and rotated it. A blue plane came into focus, "_that_ plane's been up against the Ustio mercenary, the so called 'Demon Lord'. That's the very one _I_ flew against Him".

'That plane' was a blue F-20A Tigershark. The short stubby wings displayed orange stripes underneath, resembling the feathers of a Kingfisher bird. The "breast" of the plane was a similar golden orange. Like the bird the F-20A's 'beak' stretched in front of the small main body. Emblazoned on the tailfin was a bold white number five. He smiled longingly up at the plane with admiration, as if it were his own flesh and blood, his girl.

This time Andreas spoke more calmly, "we were primarily an attack squadron, often equipped with laser guided bombs or multi-targeting air-to-ground missiles. However for missions like in the Round Table we carried the Semi-active Air-to-Air Missile – which unfortunately cannot be seen on the plane today".

Andreas slowly walked towards the camera like someone starring in a documentary, "the most unique feature of our squadron", he grinned, "was our flight lead".

May 28, 1995…


	6. Chapter 6: Battleaxe - Part One

May 28, 1995…

"Rapier Twelve is down! Galm Two and Crow Three, quit arguing and help us!"

The Belkan Air Force had whittled the Osean fighters down to only a few numbers, and the reinforcements were bickering about why they were up here. _An Ustio mercenary _was giving a fellow Osean pilot a lecture on what he was fighting for. Unbelievable.

Eagle Eye interrupted them, "Galm Team, multiple craft approaching! Something's wrong… stay alert".

Pixy joined formation with Cipher, flying left of Cipher. Ten miles away, four F-20A Tigershark fighter jets sped towards them. The enemy flight lead spoke.

"Blau one to all Blau units; ten miles to go, activating electronic measures. Kingfishers, let the hunt begin!"

The four Tigershark pilots responded in turn.

"Blau Two, roger!"

"Roger that!

"Roger, Captain"

"Roger, let's go!"

With that, two of Tigersharks accelerated towards the dogfighting planes ahead. A silver F-16 that had joined the Galm Team over Tauberg joined formation with Cipher, flying adjacent to Pixy. Pixy raised an eyebrow, "Cipher, two of them are hanging back. Do you want me to go after them?"

There was a pause as the two Tigersharks approached. Then Cipher spoke, telling Pixy to provide cover. Pixy's F-15 darted into position behind Cipher. The silver F-16 received no command.

"This is Crow Three, I'll assist the Galm Team however I can!"

Cipher and PJ accelerated towards the approaching Tigersharks. They were three miles away and closing in fast, coming head on at a relative speed of Mach 3. At more than two miles away the missile alert tone began to blare.

Both of the approaching Tigersharks began weaving. Cipher saw no approaching smoke trails. All three planes scanned the skies for missiles. PJ spoke first.

"Cipher, missiles approaching from our twelve o'clock!" He paused for a second before speaking again, "that's not right, there's nothing there". Soon the missile marks reached the centre of their radars. Nothing happened. Cipher's gaze remained fixed on the meandering F-20 Tigersharks. Cipher's first shot was lined up.

"Galm one, fox two!" Eagle Eye exclaimed over the radio, "Cipher, the enemy fighters seem to be equipped with advanced electronic support measures. Exercise caution".

'_Real _helpful, AWACS', Cipher thought, just as the missile whizzed past the Tigershark. A second later the two blue-orange 'Kingfishers' screamed overhead. Cipher caught a glimpse of the two Tigersharks' squat wings, 'fighters with electronic support measures? That can't be right'. Cipher's thoughts were cut off by the missile alert tone.

PJ checked his radar again. This time his mouth dropped.

"Numerous missiles inbound!" PJ screamed. His radar displayed over one hundred missiles in bound from the North-Eastern quadrant of his radar. Strangely, none of the Belkan fighters appeared on his display.

"Galm Two to Crow Three, calm down. The enemy's messing with our radars", Pixy craned his neck to get a visual on the pair of Tigersharks. They'd turned tight and were already tailing Pixy and Cipher. The missile alert tone blared again, but Pixy managed to see smoke trails homing in on them from the attacking Tigersharks.

Cipher saw them too and evaded as the missile shot beneath. From that moment the pair of F-20s stayed close on their tails. They could not be shaken off. The missile alert tone did not cease.

"Galm Team, numerous inbound missiles detected on radar! They're all hoaxes" Eagle Eye reassured the Galm Team as again the North East quadrant of their radar was illuminated with short white lines, all pointing towards the middle. Cipher and Pixy ignored them as instructed, but Pixy was frustrated.

"Why the hell aren't these Tigersharks appearing on radar? AWACS, give us some informa-"

He was cut off by an explosion.

A missile.

Striking his plane.

"Blau Five, target hit!" One of the Belkans cheered over the radio, "he's still flying. Firing second S-A-A-M!"

The red-winged silver F-15 was pluming smoke, but Pixy kept flying. Quickly he worked out their tactic.

"Cipher, the planes are fighting in pairs. There's one pair chasing us…"

PJ interrupted him, "and another pair firing long range missiles at us from above! This would be so much easier if they weren't carrying electronic support!"

They weren't.

"Blau One to all Blau units, the enemy is learning. Switching from fake information to radar jamming. They won't see a thing now".

Suddenly, the sea of white missile blips disappeared from the radar. Instead the entire radar displays was filled with waves of green. Pixy was furious, "AWACS, can't you fight this? We're flying blind here!"

"Galm Two, we're working on it. Your heads-up-display should now display the enemy fighters. You'll need to find the source of the jamming, too!"

Now PJ responded, "you can't be serious!" but he was cut off by Cipher giving the order to engage at will. A long range missile passed directly underneath PJ's F-16, barely outside its effective range. 'Maybe we should focus now', he thought as he saw the missile speed off into the distance. Whilst PJ tried to regain his bearings, he heard an explosion.

"Galm One, target neutralised", Eagle Eye stated. Cipher flew behind the hit plane. Similarly to Pixy's Eagle, this Tigershark was billowing smoke. Only it was billowing much, much more. Its main starboard wing was shredded, lots of the metal had torn away to reveal the structure inside. It could barely maintain level flight. The enemy pilot was heard over the radio.

"This is Blau Five, I can still fight!" But the flight-lead automatically responded.

"Negative, Blau Five, return to base", the man's voice spoke. Then it sarcastically asked, "can't pay off those fees posthumously, can you?"

The damaged Tigershark peeled away from Cipher's boresight and headed North East but his pursuer followed, unsure of whether or not to finish the kill. Blau Five could see the speck in his rear view mirror. It hovered there for a full five seconds until suddenly-

It banked away.

Blau Five looked left over his shoulder and saw the Ustio mercenary turning away, white contrails stemming from the wing tips. He sighed with relief and clutched a photograph attached to his cockpit. He held it close to his chest.

Pixy spoke to Cipher, "it's your call, Cipher. There's bigger king-fish-ers to fry".

Cipher groaned again, but then he looked at his radar. Similarly to the jamming stations in Futuro and Tauberg, the source was not visible but one could extrapolate the position of the source from the pattern of the waves as they appeared on the radar. Sure enough the waves were diverging as they passed to their South West. Cipher looked to his North East and saw a green square marked by red letters spelling "TGT". Due to the electronic support measures, no one had seen the aircraft until now. Cipher switched targets and the aircraft information appeared next to the target square.

EC-335  
BLAU


	7. Chapter 7: Battleaxe - Part Two

High above Area B7R, circling about 50 miles away from the mountainous ridge crossed by the allied forces less than an hour ago, was Blau One.

"That thing looks ancient!" PJ exclaimed as he caught sight of the monstrous aircraft. The EC-335 was an AWACS variant of the almost retired Belkan heavy bomber BM-335 'Lindwurm' – 'Dragon'. It featured a similar livery to the four 'Kingfisher' F-20s. Its unique fuselage layout looked like two fuselages stacked vertically which then blended into one beneath the enormous main wings. The lower fuselage was painted white and the upper was light blue. It was amazing that an enormous aircraft like this would risk such a paint scheme. That said it was unlikely to be physically seen on the battlefield anyway.

"Blau One to all remaining Blau units, we've been spotted. Jamming has been unsuccessful. Abandon Kingfisher technique, draw these Ustio flies away!"

The three F-20s darted together to form a chevron formation, afterburners ablaze. None of the pilots had time to focus on escorting their damaged comrade, Blau Five. The fifth Tigershark limped away from the battlefield, able to maintain level flight on the brink of stalling speed. The pilot could do nothing but behold the ensuing dogfight.

"Galm Two to Galm One, I'll distract the fighters. Go for the big bird! Crow Three, you're with me. Don't get in the way of my shots". Amazingly, Pixy's plane was still flying. The trail of grey smoke did not deter the red winged fighter. If a missing wing wouldn't stop this plane, perhaps nothing would…

Cipher manoeuvred behind the EC-335. Like Eagle Eye's E767, it too featured a slowly rotating radome perched high above the fuselage. Unlike Eagle Eye's E767, it retained its rear turrets.

A stream of bullets came within inches of Cipher's craft. Undeterred, Cipher launched a pair of missiles before dropping back out of the turret cannon's range. To Cipher's disbelief, the missiles missed their target. In fact when the missiles were almost within effective range of the EC-335 they forked out in different directions, completely missing the giant plane.

Pixy and PJ were each pursuing one and a half F-20 Tigersharks which was proving to be a difficult task. Pixy asked over the radio, "Cipher, the jamming's still active. Is everything okay?"

Eagle Eye responded before Cipher could, "Galm One, its electronic counter measures are affecting your missiles. You'll have to gun it down!"

"Crow Three to Galm One, do you need some help?"

Again Cipher was cut off before responding.

"Galm Two to Crow Three, our job right now is to keep these sharks away from Galm One. Galm One will manage".

Cipher shrugged and soared into position high above the Belkan AWACS plane. Here Cipher was outside of the turrets field of fire. The turrets helplessly released warning bursts as Cipher's craft flipped and dived on them, firing a non-stop volley of bullets.

The barrage lasted for fifteen seconds. With help of Cipher's airbrakes, the fighter jet slowed as much as possible in its dive, falling slowly to the AWACS plane like feather. As the final bullet was fired the AWACS plane shattered and a fireball erupted from the plane. Out of the fireball flew the burning wreckage of the plane which exploded before any parachutes were deployed.

Pixy glanced at his radar display just as the green jamming waves ceased and disappeared in the blink of an eye. He exclaimed, "Radar's clear, I can see everything clearly. Cipher, there's three left; one each again".

Cipher nodded and chased after one of the Tigersharks, quickly annihilating it before it could turn to evade. The two Tigersharks had been prepared for this.

"Blau Two to Blau Four, frenzying is our only choice now. Switch to standard missiles, the SAAMs won't help us at this range".

The fourth Blau plane didn't respond, but acknowledged by rolling into position behind Pixy. He launched a missile.

"They've got a lock on me!" Pixy yelled as his injured fighter jet lurched out of the path of the missile. The persistent blue Tigershark fired another missile, then another, then another. Pixy managed to evade each one, just.

"Crow Three, fox two!" PJ stated. PJ's missile met its mark and struck the pursuing Tigershark. It broke from its chase of Pixy and turned-

Right into the path of another missile.

Eagle Eye exclaimed, "Cipher just bagged a bandit!"

Pixy smiled, "thanks, buddy. All planes, there's two more Belkan craft on radar". He was interrupted by yet another explosion.

"Gah!" someone screamed.

Cipher and Pixy quickly glanced around the skies and now saw another column of smoke. It was coming from a grey F-16.

PJ tried to remain calm and said, "this is Crow Three, I've been hit. I can still fly, I think".

The one remaining Belkan Ace was less confident.

"Blau Four to Blau Five, get back here you coward! This is three against one. _Verdammt_, I can't handle this on my own!" A missile smashed into the back of his F-20. Metal shards fell from the tailfin, the bold number four now had several small holes. The plane accelerated and climbed whilst banking sharply.

"Missile launched!" Eagle Eye confirmed as a thin white plume of smoke erupted from Cipher's plane. The missile met its target, striking the rear of the Tigershark. It spun out of control before exploding. Pixy nodded with approval as he saw the parachute deploy. He turned away.

Eagle Eye spoke over the radio, "Galm Team, mission accomplished. All Blau units have been neutralised. The inoperative craft has left the battlefield".

Then a bitter voice addressed Cipher.

"Demon Lord of the Round Table… I hope you never lose anyone close to you. And I hope you find out what you're fighting for one day too". It was Blau five who was safely beyond battlefield limits. His damaged craft would sidle back to Belka.


	8. Chapter 8: Declassified Information

2007, Heierlark Airbase

I had a good mental image of the Round Table, and a good understanding of the fear that the 'Demon Lord' had begun to inspire. In less than two months the 'Demon Lord' had been responsible for liberating major cities of Ustio; Solis Ortis, Directus, even the entire country after 41 days, during which 'Solo Wing Pixy' and 'Cipher' had been responsible for downing two Belkan Ace squadrons, as well as several other promising pilots, and countless ground and naval troops.

My progress map along the triangular sketch of Belka and Ustio was highlighted red at the location of each mission. Now the Galm Team's path looped back on itself as after three missions in Belka they had been scrambled to B7R again. The 'C' in 'Cipher' now donned a pair of cartoon-esque devil horns. It was the best I could do, armed with my red highlighter and no art qualifications following 3 years of art at school.

After the explaining details of the second visit to B7R, Brett Thompson and Pixy only spoke about two more missions. Pixy's recounting of the bombing of Hoffnung was what one would expect for a protesting student, or an anti-war activist, not a care-free money-hunting mercenary. His actions after that mission over the Waldreich Mountaings were unbelievable.

I scribbled out the silver F-15.

This 'Solo Wing Pixy' had assisted in the Waldreich incident, the Seven Pillars of Belka. I was astonished. Over twelve thousand lives were lost in the separatist movement. It wasn't many considering the weapons used, but in the lowly populated area it was a horror. Castle Stier used to be beautiful. My family have photos of a holiday in the area, long before the war. I was too young to remember the trip. Look at pictures of Stier Castle today… I was glad.

Brett Thompson narrated the events after the Waldreich incident right up to the end of the war. Like Mr Thompson, I remember seeing the headlines that day. On June 20th, every front page in the country was filled with headlines like 'The Belkan War is over!', 'Peace at last!', and various somewhat more extreme headlines from the tabloid papers.

I noticed that there were no interviews from the elusive third pilot. After the Waldreich incident, Crow Three became Galm Two. His full name was Patrick James Beckett. He was a fighter pilot from Osea, just like the Wardog squadron. He had a girlfriend at his airbase, just like Wardog Three. There was no explanation regarding the absence of Patrick James. I worried that he'd been shot down during the Belkan War, however both Mr Thompson and Patrick confirmed that he had returned home after the operation at the coastal Belkan city of Anfang. It transpired simultaneously with the peace treaty signings in Lumen.

He must have made a quiet life for himself after the war. I bet he got married and had long since moved on from the events of the war. Oh well.

After Mr Thompson had explained the Galm Team's days over Anfang, and I'd drawn a long line from Anfang down to Valais Airbase in Southern Ustio, I got up to eject the video.

But it continued.

The Belkan war ended at Lumen and the battle of Anfang, but the path of the 'Demon Lord' didn't.

For a long period of time, nothing happened, 'six months of void' was how Mr Thompson worded it.

My notepad was now more detailed than any history book.

Christmas Day, 1995. The coverage of the events in the media at the time were sketchy. Lumen was attached by unknown militants was all that I knew of the event. Instead, Mr Thompson explained, it was the revelation of a radical terrorist organisation with a truly terrifying goal. This was where the path of the 'Demon Lord' continued.

That Christmas the Galm Team had encountered an enormous flying command centre called Hes, Resv, Hresvegl… XB-0. I'd rewound the video countless times and still couldn't spell it. I could spell the enemy new aces. In a true borderless fashion the organisation were using the flying command centre of Belkan design but their fighter aces hailed from Sapin, one of the countries threatened by Belka's rapid expansion.

The Galm Team had put up an incredible fight against XB-0 and amazingly the two planes managed to clip the wings of the giant eagle. One week later, on the eve of the New Year, the conflict would come to an end. Cipher and Patrick James were scrambled from Valais to the Avalon Dam in Belka. The journey there would not be easy.

December 31st, Area B7R


	9. Chapter 9: Thunderbolt - Part One

Unlike the previous missions at the Round table, there wasn't a defending air force plane in sight. The Round Table was overcast, grey, and dark.

"Pass through B7R; it's an awful place, but the fastest shortcut. Maintain current course", Eagle Eye paused until Cipher had reached the curved mountain range, "Enemy aircraft detected close to Area B7R. There's no time to change course, eliminate enemy air forces in the round table and break through it".

PJ spoke up, "they have different ID signals than Belka".

Four black jets slipped silently across the grey sky beneath the clouds. They flew in a finger-four formation.

A Hispanic voice barked over the radio, "this is Dragon One. The Demon Lord is threatening our mission. It's time to perform an exorcism".

Beneath the four matte black jets their bomb bays opened to reveal rows of missiles. Their lead plane responded, "This is Dragon five, roger. Let's denounce the Demon Lord".

Cipher and PJ accelerated ahead towards the enemy planes, staying in formation. As they approached they saw the four enemy planes fan out before disappearing from sight.

PJ was puzzled and irritated, "What the… what's with all of these invisible enemies!"

The four enemy radar blips showed again, this time they were less than two miles away. Simultaneously the green targeting squares in their heads-up-displays appeared. Cipher read next to one of the squares:

F-117  
DRAGON

Stealth attackers, a strange choice for air defence.

Cipher launched a pair of missiles at the targeted F-117 Nighthawk. All four of the Nighthawks were painted in their trademark jet black colour schemes, but thin red and yellow curved lines streaked across the top of the fuselage. The underbelly of the Nighthawks was more impressive. Each craft displayed an orange dragon in flight, breathing painted fire which stretched to all the edges of the flat underbelly. It was a work of art. Before the pilot could evade the missiles both made contact and the Nighthawk disappeared from radar indefinitely. This would be easy.

PJ was having a different experience of the Nighthawks, having soon found out the type of surplus missiles carried by the Nighthawks, "Cipher they're carrying Q-A-A-Ms!" Then he addressed the attacking craft, "hey, can't you read your IFF? We're allies of Ustio! We're not enemies"

Eagle Eye responded, "It's no use, these fighters are from San Salvación. They've joined the Coup; it's too late to talk them out of it. Just hurry up and shoot them all down".

A Usean missile from the Nighthawk strayed close behind Cipher's craft. Cipher had to focus on the location of the QAAM whilst attacking the Nighthawk in case it looped around into an attacking position. One was distracting enough, but the four planes equipped with them knew how to use them. Three more QAAMs were launched into the air in quick succession, all targeting Cipher's craft.

"The Round Tables battles are over, what are you fighting for?" PJ was persistent in talking to the enemy fighters.

Dragon One was quick to respond, "the battle to realign the borders has moved to the meeting boardroom. It is you who should reconsider your presence here".

"Those lines will build a new future" PJ argued, but again Dragon One had an answer lined up.

"Those _lines_ will be the death of millions"

"What do you mean?" PJ demanded.

"So long as people separate themselves, there will be conflict". PJ didn't have a response to that.

Now Dragon One spoke to his comrades, "ignore that we outnumber them, do not underestimate this Demon".

PJ laughed at this comment as one of his missiles made contact with a Nighthawk. The plane exploded into flames and he caught a glimpse of the canopy bursting open. As the parachute deployed, PJ retorted, "it's two against two now!"

"Dragon Six to Dragon One, it's just Diego and I now!"

The response came as automatically as in the argument, "roger that, Dragon Six. Stay in there, we're coming to get you". A missile darted beneath the painted underbelly of Dragon Six, just missing its mark. The pair of Nighthawks intensified their evasive manoeuvres. With a low stall speed the Nighthawks could effectively pivot to face the opposite direction to Cipher or PJ before darting in front of them, adjacent to the path of any missiles.

Cipher managed to stick behind one of the Nighthawks. A pair of missiles were launched and sped towards the evasive Nighthawk-

"Warning! The enemy's locked onto you!" Eagle Eye and PJ both exclaimed simultaneously. To Cipher's frustration the enemy Nighthawk had taken up a six o'clock position too and had now launched a QAAM. After Cipher's missile missed the target, the targeted Nighthawk flew in a straight line, tempting Cipher to fly right behind him. Cipher had no choice but to evade and the QAAM shot straight beneath.

The targeted Nighthawk now had a clear six o'clock, and made use of this to turn to face the grey F-16 covering the Demon Lord. A single QAAM dropped beneath the fuselage and as soon as the thruster activated it sped towards the F-16.

"Cipher, fly towards me, I have an idea". Cipher was thinking the same thing. Each allied plane was being tailed by a QAAM, as well as the Nighthawk responsible for firing each respective missile. Both planes built up speed before turning to face each other.

For both pilots the missile alert frequency increased as the QAAMs closed in. Now both fighters accelerated towards each other, pursuers tight on their sixes, and at the last moment they both banked right.

As planned the pursuing missiles shot past Cipher and PJ.

As did the Nighthawks.

PJ watched with disappointment as the two Usean fighters flew on unscathed. Perhaps that plan was too unrealistic. However it was smart to target the other fighter.

Before long PJ and Cipher were targeting a Nighthawk each in their bore sights. They both waited for a good opportunity to fire, but Eagle Eye shouted.

"Missile warning! Evade!"


	10. Chapter 10: Thunderbolt - Part Two

Eagle Eye's cautious voice was almost drowned out by the missile alert beeps. Cipher glanced down through the red heads-up-display and counted about 10 missile blips to the North East.

PJ questioned it, "do the enemy have electronic support again?" Then he looked in the direction of incoming missiles and almost screamed.

The pair of Nighthawks was in close range combat with the mercenaries. As they were unable to exceed the speed of sound they had taken to fighting the Galm Team by swarming around them and using the scissor technique – cutting in front of one of the Demons, and then turning to do the same in the opposite direction whilst the Demon turned. Therefore it didn't take long to work out the source of the long range missiles.

"Only four? That's not right. There's even more stealth fighters!" As PJ spoke, four more matte black fighter jets with blazing afterburners silently darted overhead. A second later the almighty scream of the eight engines followed.

PJ tracked the supersonic stealth aircraft but seconds later they disappeared from radar. PJ squinted to keep track of the distant afterburners, but a missile launched from one of the remaining Nighthawks captured his attention.

Ten seconds later the four black jets appeared on radar and screamed overhead, following the smoke trails of a dozen missiles which had missed their mark. As if tangling with two expert Nighthawk pilots wasn't hard enough, they were now suffering hit and run attacks from four supersonic jets.

"Eagle Eye to Galm Team, this isn't a turn fight. Play these fighters at their own game!"

Cipher nodded and stopped chasing the Nighthawk. PJ followed suit and accelerated away from the spiralling Nighthawks. Both of the Usean stealth attackers tried to chase the Galm Team but before long they were beyond the firing range of the QAAMs. Now they were helpless.

"Dragon Six, we'll bring them to you". The four supersonic stealth fighters had not slowed down. They banked around the face the Galm team, staying tightly in their formation. Cipher and PJ brought the fast approaching fighters to the centre of their heads-up-displays. The targeting reticule displayed the aircraft type.

"Galm Two to Galm One, the Usean squadron has four Raptors. We can do this… right?"

Cipher didn't respond. PJ just received an order to stay on Cipher's six o'clock. They charged head on into the oncoming F-22s.

"Dragon Team, the Demon has fallen into our trap. Fire all missiles"

Cipher ignored the taunt and unleashed a pair of missiles at the targeted F-22. Countless missiles sped towards Cipher's craft. Both Cipher and PJ altered their course and the missiles missed. Cipher's missiles, however, met their mark.

The pair of missiles slammed into the speeding F-22 at a collision speed of Mach 4. It produced a spectacular fireball and the matte black F-22 shattered. The pilot did not survive.

Cipher got a better look at the Raptors. Like the Nighthawks they were matte black but they were lacking the dragon depicted on their underbellies, and the orange and red swirls were thicker. The emblem of the San Salvacion Air Force had long since been painted over. A World With No Boundaries had no emblem, but the Dragon Team emblem was still embellished on the large slanted tail fins. Cipher didn't get a good look at the emblem.

"Cipher just bagged a bandit!" PJ exclaimed over the roar of the passing Raptors. The two planes flew flat and level until they had flown for an extra two miles. Then both flights turned sharply and the joust began again. This time both Cipher and PJ fired.

And both missile salvos struck their targets.

"Galm Team, enemy forces have suffered considerable damage, keep up the good work!"

The one remaining Raptor pilot craned his neck to look for parachutes. There weren't any. His colleagues, Dragon Two and Three, had just been killed.

Dragon One was furious. He hissed, "all planes, let's swarm the Demon. He has taken too many of our brothers. We'll focus on the Falcon afterwards". His Raptor darted towards the two Nighthawks. Dragon Six and Seven, the two Nighthawks, had attempted to pursue the Galm Team but their efforts had been futile. Now Dragon One, the 'Dragon of San Salvacion', was hurtling towards them. Behind him flew the Galm Team.

The lead Raptor passed the slow Nighthawks and arched high into the sky, slowing down to face the Demon Lord in a turn fight. He looped over to face the attackers but instead saw two fireballs. He grinned

"Good work, Dragon Team!" the lead exclaimed.

There was no response. He heard an annoying voice over the radio.

"Yeah! This is PJ, I just bagged a bandit, and so did Cipher".

Dragon One could do nothing but stare as the two mercenaries burst through the fireballs. All of his brothers had been downed. There was no stopping this. He addressed the Demon Lord.

"Demon Lord, A World With No Boundaries will succeed. The Sleeping King will slay you once and for all. Killing us will achieve nothing". He spoke coolly as the missile tone began to blare. He turned around for one more attack and managed to release a torrent of missiles before he was hit. As he bailed out he said nothing.

Eagle Eye skipped any congratulations, "all enemy planes are down. Proceed with the operation and pass through area B7R". PJ's plane decelerated as he joined formation with Cipher.

"I'll follow Cipher to the end!"


	11. Chapter 11: The Other Side Of The Coin

2007, Heierlark Airbase

Solo Wing Pixy explained the events of New Year's Eve, 1995. Avalon Dam hadn't been associated with any conflict, but the video explained that beneath it laid a secret missile silo, the likes of which the world had never seen. It had been home to the V2 rocket, an almighty warhead capable of much more than the seven nuclear bombs used in Waldreich combined. The mission had been to stop the rocket. But as He showed up, Solo Wing Pixy returned to the stage.

I sadly drew a single line through the grey F-16.

My eyes returned to the TV as the screen turned black. A familiar voice spoke. It was Marion von Anfang, Rosa One.

"I don't think it would've made a difference", Marion still looked out the window, her hands were together on her lap, "if we'd tried our best from the start. I remember the fighter- the Eagle with the red wing, he flew like a true pilot. But the 'Demon Lord' flew such unpredictable patterns…"

Marion looked at the camera raising her eyebrows, "it was like he wasn't afraid to die".

She sighed and looked back out of the window. Her hands hadn't moved throughout the entire interview.

"My grandfather in the triplane always said that no matter how good someone is, there'll always be someone better than you. That was hours before he was killed. I remembered the same thing before we left". Her shoulders slumped, "maybe it just wasn't in my blood".

The screen briefly turned black, then Andreas Brandner, Blau Five, reappeared on the screen, walking away from his F-20A.

As he walked he looked at Mr Thompson who was off camera. He remarked, "national pride is a tricky subject nowadays. A wise man once said 'you shouldn't be proud of something you are, but rather of something you do'".

He gesticulated whilst saying so, "for instance, if you say you're proud of where you're from that can be misconstrued with nationalist connotations, or even extrapolated to racism. Personally, and I know that I'm not alone in this", he emphasised, "national pride meant being proud of one's family. My family, my upbringing… my community. National pride for me meant looking after my family. When I was up there 'fighting for my country', I was fighting for my family".

Andreas stopped walking when he reached the thruster section of a rocket I'd seen earlier in the video, "of course, national pride can lead to much worse, like this monstrosity behind me". He gestured to the section of the rocket. In front of it was a placard; the writing upon it was out of focus. Andreas continued, reaching into his pocket and removing a photo from his wallet. He held the photo up to the camera.

"I was fighting for my kids to go to University". The picture showed a young woman holding a rolled up diploma and dressed in a black gown and mortarboard hat. It was torn in several places and had yellowed with age. He picked out another picture, "I was fighting to make sure my daughter's wedding day was perfect. I was fighting to keep a roof over my family. These pictures, those memories, are worth more than any pay cheque. I was fighting for them, and soldiers like us fought for our communities".

He became a lot less animated and sighed; he hung his head, "but perhaps that's why we failed. The Demon Lord… He flew for a pay cheque. Flying without a care in the world, only fighting for himself… _that _kind of pilot is unstoppable". He managed a smile and looked up at Mr Thompson, "good thing he was flying for the good guys".

I reflected upon Andreas Brandner's interview; I too questioned the Demon Lord's motives. Armed forces are designed to save lives, not to take them. I didn't take my eyes off the screen. It switched to dark once more and displayed some new interviews. As per the attack on the flying command centre, the second plane of the squadron protecting XB-0 was interviewed. It was another female pilot, but one who had more of an interest in her flight lead than her flight lead's ideals.

The screen went black and rows and white text appeared once again.

INTERVIEW #05  
THE DRAGON FROM THE EAST

NUEVA CÁRCEL, SAN SALVACION  
15 OCT., 2005

'The Dragon from the East' was in fiery orange letters. Mr Thompson spoke,

"Geraldo Cortez, known as the 'Dragon of San Salvacion'", pictures of his identification and his squadron emblem and details appeared on the screen, "was a former captain of the San Salvacion Air Force's 1st air division, 59th Tactical Fighter Squadron. Cortez and seven other pilots allegedly disappeared during a training exercise around the time of the Waldreich conflict. The planes were never seen again, but the pilots were all apprehended by Osean forces months later".

Pictures of Cortez slowly swept across the screen. Mr Thompson continued, "with the help of Andreas Brandner, Blau Team's number five, I managed to track down Cortez to a prison in Nueva Cárcel, San Salvacion".

Geraldo Cortez sat on a bench in his prison cell. His sat forward, his elbows resting on his legs. Beside him was empty plate.

"You arrived just in time", he remarked, "I'm finally about to reach a borderless world: the one in which we do not live. That's the cause of borders; living people. So long as there are people, there will be conflict", he shrugged as he spoke.

"For example, when two Osean hockey teams face each other, the fans will get violent with each other, but when it's an international game, the former Osean enemies will unite against, say, the Yuktobanian fans". I had to admit, he had a point. He continued, "when two towns mock each other, those two towns would unite against someone in the next state, and those two states would unite if a foreigner were to insult their country". He signified each level by counting them on his fingers.

"In Usea, nations unite when other parts of the continent attack. Maybe even continents will unite against each other one day. But for the whole world to unite in this way would require events of science fiction" Cortez looked his interviewer straight in the eye, "_that_ is why I joined A World With No Boundaries".

He smiled and moved his arms, "just imagine it, the whole world united against one organisation", he paused and smiled again, "although ironically pilots from all over joined the organisation to unite against the world". He shrugged and brought his hands together again, "there's a famous saying which goes: 'the only thing that will redeem mankind is cooperation'. But that will never happen".

"Regardless of the Demon Lord's actions we wouldn't have achieved A World With No Boundaries. Like I said before, so long as people like you", he pointed at Mr Thompson, "me", he moved his open hand to his chest before pointing at the camera, "and him- I assume it was a him? Her?" He shrugged again, "anyway, so long as people in general are alive, there will be differences, and differences cause conflict", he looked up, focussing on something off camera, "but I won't have to worry about that anymore". Another voice spoke.

"Cortez, Geraldo, the chair's ready. Step this way!" the voice commanded. A prison warden barged past the camera, knocking it into Mr Thompson's lap. He quickly fumbled at the camera and levelled it. He fiddled with the focus to capture the struggle. Now two prison guards were handling Cortez out of his cell, dragging him by his elbows. Cortez stood his ground and leaned in to the camera. He bellowed.

"Tell the Demon Lord I'll see him in a borderless hell!"


	12. Chapter 12: The Penny drops

I was amazed at the effect that this 'Demon Lord' had had on people from all across the world. The final interview was entitled 'A Brother In Arms'. All the pieces finally fell into place. Cipher and Pixy's duel of the fates over Avalon Damn had been a phenomenal battle, ultimately ending in Pixy's defeat. The ballistic missile had launched but had caused no casualties. As the interviews with him progressed the camera zoomed out more and more, showing his face, war damage to the room, and a shaft of lift

I couldn't help smile and Pixy's story. He found refuge with civilians on the ground. He experienced a great change of heart that day. He admitted that the borderless world, whilst ideal, might be ineffective, and that the only way to improve the world is for the people to willingly improve, not to have it forced upon them… as unlikely as that was.

The room in which he sat was near another front line, hence the gun fire. His search for purpose and knowledge about borders was still ongoing, and he'd come to accept that. This was where his story came to an end.

He glanced briefly into the camera.

"Will he see this video?" He asked.

"If you do meet him, give him a message for me". He looked into the camera again.

"Yo buddy", my eyes widened, "you still alive? And thanks friend. I'll see you again.

My jaw dropped and my eyes widened with realisation. I'd heard that phrase a million times before here. I had goose bumps. I leapt from the chair, flung open the door, and sprinted down the corridor, heading for the canteen.

I burst into the canteen, brushing off the fallen snow from outside. Across at the other side of the room I found the Wardog squadron; Major Flannigan, Captain Bartlett, Lieutenant Bolton-

My Alfred was missing.

I ran right up to their table. Captain Bartlett spoke as I arrived at their table, "Tina, everything ok?"

I caught my breath and responded, "Jack, where…" I paused to catch my breath, "where's Alfred?"

Captain Bartlett looked up at me with confusion, "You mean he's not with you? He doesn't know how to celebrate turning 30, does he?!" He nudged Lieutenant Bolton as the table erupted with laughter.

"Oh, my God", I ignored their laughter and bolted out of the canteen. Bartlett sensed something was wrong and shortly caught up with me. As we ran out of the building and ran across the fresh snow I stopped to explain what was happening to Captain Bartlett, but he just shouted, "explain later!"

We reached the barracks and I stopped. Bartlett almost crashed into me.

"What's wrong?" He asked me. I looked up at him, unsure of where to go. He joked, "don't tell me you never visited Alfred's bunk when we've been away".

"Hey, I'm not that kind of girl!" I retorted. Bartlett raised an eyebrow with a look of disbelief. I said nothing, looked away, and continued running.

We ran down a corridor, passing confused sleep warrant officers who squeezed up against the wall as we sprinted pasted. We turned down another corridor and stopped at a door. Inscribed on the door was a plaque which read:

_**108th  
Wardog Squadron**_

I fumbled at the handle but it was locked. Instantly I tried to shoulder barge against the door a few times but my attempts were futile. Captain Bartlett moved me aside and brought out a set of keys. He picked out a short ridged key and placed it in the lock. It stopped halfway in.

Bartlett tried again, but the again the key would only go half way into the lock. He removed the key and took a step back.

"Stand back, kid!"

Captain Bartlett raised his right leg and, leaning into the kick, made contact just below the door's handle.

The door swung open violently and bounced off the inside wall. I squeezed past Bartlett and frantically looked around the room. It was empty.

Bartlett walked in expecting Alfred to be lying unconscious on the floor. The beds were empty, but on Alfred's bed lay several slips of paper. On the bed and the neighbouring desk were several documents; several passports and other forms of identification from various countries, multiple chequebooks, and credit cards under numerous names. Each of the passports and ID cards had different dates of birth. One dated as far back as 1968, 5 years before Alfred said he'd born. If that was his real name-

We both turned as the curtains fluttered in the breeze. The wind whistled through the open window. Quickly I moved over to it and leaned out. My mouth gaped as I saw dozens of indentations in the snow. They were footprints. The trail of footprints turned right and darted behind the barracks. I hurdled out of the window and into the wind.

I sprinted along the trail of footprints, searching for the source. The prints were close together, they were walking strides apart. I turned a corner and ran behind the barracks building, headlong into a blast of wind and snow. As the falling snow was swept sideways in the wind I had to raise my arm to shield my vision. I became emotional and my vision began to blur anyway. I could hear Captain Bartlett shouting behind me as I ran, telling me to stop. I kept running but it didn't matter.

I followed the trail of footprints around another corner and fell to me knees. The distance between each footprint had increased; he'd broken into a run. In the distance were the northern mountains that surrounded the airbase. As tears filled my eyes Captain Bartlett's comforting hand came down on my shoulder. I hopelessly stared down at the nearest footprint. The falling snow had quickly filled the gap and now the outline was barely visible. Soon they had completely disappeared.

As had he.


End file.
